Chapter 23

The night air was cold. Steps echoed as two figures drift in and out of yellow fluorescent light. Bugs swarm the lampposts, buzzing above them in a dull hum.

Sakura's head is not clouded with drunkenness and her eyes are keen; she hadn't drunk a single drop of liquor. She did, however, gorge herself on sushi and ginger. That was a high in itself—arguably, the best kind.

The young woman pauses briefly to adjust the blistering strap on her borrowed sandals, wishing she'd thought to bandage her heel.

"Did you have a good time?" A deep voice calls out as he waits.

Sakura looks up at the young man. He smells like alcohol but his steps are sure and composed—he's almost as sober as she is. He makes for a good shelf to lean on, and she brazenly grasps his shoulder while she fixes her shoe. With a smile, she says, "I don't hang out with my friends very often, so yes, it was fun."

Hinata had retired early after a sudden bout of nausea, so Sakura was left babysitting Ten-Ten and Ino. It wasn't so bad—Sakura didn't like to drink much anyways. It was good to roam around without worrying about work or exams or Sasuke Uchiha. She couldn't remember ever feeling so carefree.

They walk up her doorsteps and she notices something off-colored in her bushes. Carefully leaning down, making sure her dress did not rise up, she plucks up faux bird that had fallen from her wreath.

"How did that get here?" She mumbles to herself, trying to remember if the wind had been fairly strong that day.

Yuma Hojo scratches the back of his head timidly. He doesn't know what to say—he's never been much of a flirter. He wants to hear more of her sweet voice, though, and he'd even stoop to discussing work if he had to. She seemed to drone on about it earlier. "So, are you happy you passed the second part of the exam? It was...really hard."

The woman fiddles with the hot glue on the fowl's body and peels it off with her thumbnail. It falls onto her wooden porch, settling between an open gap. "Yeah…it was hard, wasn't it? I'm not into sci-fi stuff, and I was super freaked out about our last opponent. It really threw me for a loop. Thankfully, I had a really good partner."

A silence grows between them. Sakura is worried about how she'll stick her ugly bird on the fake flowers of her wreath. Super glue, maybe…could she sew it? And Hojo isn't sure how to keep the conversation going.

"Hey um…" He clears his throat. "You don't…remember me, do you?"

The pink-haired woman turns her gaze upon him. His looks were not exotic or noteworthy—brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin—but he had a good build and a handsome face. Sakura turns her head to the side like a confused puppy, wondering where his strange question had come from.

"You're Hojo," She deadpans. He'd told her is name already, hadn't he? Oh god, did I just make something up?

He leans in suddenly and she can see the flush of his cheeks. He smiles a boyish smile. Maybe, in a different life, she'd think it was cute. She can't seem to put her head in that place, however.

"I confessed to you during the war." The man admits, looking down at the loose bit of hot glue by his feet.

Blinking slowly, Sakura steps back and takes him in fully. She remembered almost all of her patients, after all. The blur of war certainly hadn't caused her memory to fade, had it? There was no doubt, though. It really was him.

"I didn't recognize you without your head wrapped up and that cast on your arm! I'm so sorry. I feel awful!"

He laughs and pulls at the hem of his shirt. "It's alright. I look a lot better now, after all. I don't remember if I properly thanked you."

Hojo's eyes aren't a normal type of brown after all. He nears her and Sakura can see little speckles of yellow and green—hazel. It was…kind of pretty, after all. She sends him a brilliant grin. "I was just doing my job, don't worry about it."

She places her hand on his shoulder to signify a friendly goodbye, but suddenly he's too close. He takes her open stance and polite touches a different way. He advances and Sakura recoils, making the situation more awkward than it ever needed to be.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I don't—"

Hojo blanches. "You…don't…?"

Wait…shouldn't I?

Wasn't a situation like this the whole point of her outing? Sakura had spent most of the party keeping Ino out of other people's drinks (meningitis, hello?) and Ten-Ten off of the table, leaving her too distracted to continue with Ino's plan. As fate would have it, Hojo had offered to walk all three women home. And, as fate would have it, Sakura lived the farthest away.

So, if the Gods had lined up a perfectly agreeable practice romance, why did Sakura feel that it was so incredibly…imperfect?

"I…I just…we haven't even been on a date or anything…"

Was that really a good excuse? The man didn't seem too perturbed at her announcement, so maybe it sounded convincing enough.

"I understand." He says, taking a step back. He shoves his hands into his pocket and turns to walk away. "I'll see you again soon, okay?"

Sakura waves and waits until he disappears into the darkness of the evening before reaching for the hidden key under her dying plants. When her key unlocks the door and she enters her home, the smell of beer and smoke fill her nostrils immediately.

Why does it smell so strongly? Slowly, Sakura scans, taking in her once-tidy home.

Laid out on her sofa, half on and half off, was Naruto Uzumaki. He still had a bottle wrapped in his palm and his mouth was wide open, oozing a stream of drool to her favorite couch pillow.

Shikamaru's hair was down, fanning his face as a cool breeze drifted in from behind her. He had tucked his feet under the cushions of the loveseat, not bothering to find a blanket or even a towel to wrap up in.

She shakes her head and her anger rises. Everything was a mess, like wild pigs had been set loose to build up their sty! The woman rounds the corner, praying that her kitchen had been untampered with, and sees a purple glow.

Sasuke's rinnegan dances in the dimness just as he starts to climb up onto her fucking table. "What…the hell?"

Her fury was on full-force. Sasuke was the only one awake, and the only one she could take her attitude out on. "What is going on? I thought it was just going to be you and Naruto! Who the else did you guys invite into my home?"

Sasuke stands tall, wording his sentence carefully. "Naruto called Kiba and Shikamaru,"

Guy code? What "guy code"?

She sighs and takes her heels off slowly, careful not to tug at the sensitive skin on her toes. They've been crushed together, and her little pinky was still slightly bruised. "Well, if dumb and dumber are in the TV room, I'm guessing Kiba took the attic then, huh?"

She had healed all three men in the middle of the night at least once. Naruto was quick to head home, and Shikamaru politely asked to borrow her couch. Kiba was the only one that took over the spare bed—like an overly obligated house pet. Sakura understands why Sasuke was climbing onto her table, now. It was chilly out.

"Please don't tell me you were going to sleep on that?"

So, Sasuke doesn't tell her.

She was exhausted and wanted to curl into her bed and sleep her life away, but Sasuke was a houseguest. She certainly wouldn't win his heart by forcing him to sleep on the ground. With a sigh, she takes his wrist. Thinking innocent thoughts, the woman pulls Sasuke down the hallway to a new room.

It's…a very strange place.

Sakura makes her way to the vanity and sits down, taking off fake jewelry and throwing it into a makeshift jewelry box. It's wooden and old—the hinges are rusted so it didn't even close properly. "Let me take this stuff off, and I'll be out of your way."

His eyes scan the room as she lets down her hair. It's dim. Only the light from the hallway spilled in, because the windows were double curtained and blocked off the moonlight. Most importantly, the space was void of flowers and teddy bears and all other sorts of exaggeratedly feminine things. She didn't have flashy pink walls and glittery light fixtures. Instead, everything was muted tones of gunmetal gray and white. The only dash of color belonged to the blue comforter on her bed, and it had to be one of the largest sleeping futons he'd ever seen.

The mattress within her tomb stretched from wall to wall, like two king-sized beds had been pressed together. It was topped with a stack of blankets, stockpiled directly center. She was a bird and that lump was her nest.

"You can sleep in here. I'm going to take a shower and head to Ino's." Sakura says offhandedly as she straightens up her dressers. She fixes a stack of papers, turns on her ceiling fan, and makes her way to the door.

Sasuke stops her before he can understand why.

Sakura had been out for hours. They both battled rough opponents in the exam—Sakura had gotten hurt and hadn't properly rested. She was stout, not invulnerable. Daylight would come soon; there was no reason to walk all the way to her friends' when she had a room and a home to herself.

"It's your room. You sleep here."

She releases his grip, shaking her head. "I don't think it's proper for me to stay here with four drunken boys around."

It wasn't that she didn't trust them. In fact, she could put her life in each one of their hands and be okay with whatever they chose. Her mother had raised her with proper, jaded morals, though. If she were to find out…yes, Sakura was an adult, but the way her parents regarded her still meant a lot. As innocent as it may be, her stomach churned at the inappropriateness.

This was different than keeping injured or ill company, after all.

Still, if anyone understood propriety, it was Sasuke of the Uchiha clan. "Three boys, and one sober man." he corrected with as stern expression.

Her face heats up. "I can't let you sleep on the floor in good conscience."

Why…

…did he have to sleep on the floor? She's seen her bed, hasn't she? It's huge.

Sasuke truly understood their conundrum. She was a good woman after all; the type that gave herself to a man on her wedding night after exchanging vows. She was respectable, keeping pleasantries and appropriateness at the top of her list. This wasn't a mission that offered selective sleeping arrangements.

"Unless," She says, trying to sound casual even though her heart thrummed painfully. "…you don't mind sharing?"

It's bold. Perhaps, too bold to suggest, but there was determination in her soul. It was time to be brazen. Ignoring the rush of blood flow in her ears, Sakura watches as Sasuke's eyes mull over her expression. He was searching for any sign of inappropriateness in them. Sakura knows he would never agree to sleep next to her if she had other implications. Good for her that, this time, she was not being a total pervert…

"We're both tired. It's not any different from staying in the Sage Realm on going on a long journey together. I trust you—all of my friends. You can trust me too."

Not able to stand the silence anymore, Sakura turns on her heel and fumbles around her drawer for pajamas, hoping her nervousness wasn't evident. The bottoms are simple ninja training shorts, and the top is one of her father's old tees. "I'm going to shower."

She leaves him alone in the darkness of her bedroom, escaping before she could change her mind.

Sasuke meditates. His shoulders dip in relaxation, calming his senses. The sound of Kiba's snoring fades into obscurity. Mind stilling, breathing out level respirations, the man reaches his temple.

It is well with my soul.

The conscious of this particular Uchiha had once been a murky place. Murder played out in quick succession, haunting him from within. Itachi had been a ruthless slayer, regardless of whether he was well intentioned. By his hand, Sasuke sees aunts and uncles fall to the floor. By his blade, children lose the light in their eyes—infants stop crying in the cradles.

His body coils.

Searching for the light, Sasuke finds a section of good memories; training with his mother, showing his father the esteemed fireball technique, bow hunting with Itachi in the woods outside of Konoha. Kakashi hides his face expertly even as he eats at Ichiraku, Naruto and Sakura crane beside him, trying to catch a peek.

His body unwinds.

He is patient, calm, ready for anything.

The smell of shampoo and the steam of a hot shower wafts into her bedroom. Sasuke opens his eyes just as Sakura sits at her vanity silently, toweling off the damp ends of her long hair. While he found relaxation within himself, Sakura searches for peace in her tall vanity mirror, ignoring the trepidation in her movements.

Sakura stares back at a doe-eyed girl with puffy cheeks. Her nose is narrow and small, much better suited for an academy student rather than a doctor. The pullover draped across her shoulders was at least three sizes too large and it left a figureless form in its wake.

Lashes too long, lips too thin, a plain face that never wore an inch of makeup…she really was just a child. That's why Sasuke was so calm about this entire affair. He was a man, bred to slay with his good looks and mysteriously charming detachment. In all of her life, she'd never seen him as anything less than flawless, and the unflattering view that was her own face seemed to shatter her spirit into a million unrecoverable pieces.

"Are you tired?" Sasuke asks, pulling her from her depression.

Purposefully avoiding him, Sakura searches for her remote, not knowing he had already finished meditating. "I could watch a little television. Is…uh…that okay?"

Sasuke watches as she tiptoes around her bedroom, looking high and low. Her shoulders are shaking although it's far from cold in her room. He can see the hesitation in her actions, the way she refused to look at him.

He follows the lines of her long, toned, legs as they peek out from the hem of a man's shirt. He's drawn to her, irrevocably. Sasuke Uchiha wants nothing more than to reach out and feel Sakura Haruno for all that she was.

Did she know?

It was lust—it was more than that, but not quite on the same bar as love. She was precious to him in a way Naruto could never be. They're both caught in an ebb and flow, a push and pull of emotions that went far beyond their level of comprehension.

Never in a million years would he dream of hurting her again. He doesn't want her to unconsciously cry his name out, like she'd done on that bench all those years ago. Sasuke also doesn't want to lead her on.

She was an adult, and knew what she wanted. Sasuke thought he'd let her have that, at least—Sakura deserved the freedom to dominate this…this relationship, friendship, whatever it was.

"You don't believe me?" You don't know that you're safe in my presence?

Sakura spins towards him, unsure if he'd actually meant to speak aloud. His glowing rinnegan blinks lazily, trained upon her face and whatever reaction she was portraying.

It seems as though he'd misunderstood her hesitation. Sasuke wasn't a…monster. He wasn't the criminal everyone thought he was, or the felon he used to be. He was a respectful man from a traditional family that had strayed—that had been cursed and manipulated.

No one had met the real Sasuke Uchiha yet—perhaps not even Sasuke himself. Entering his mind like she had before, Sakura knew just how hard it was for him to control his thoughts. He was still a victim of his immoral past.

Yet, every day, he was someone better. She smiles and lowers her stiffened shoulders, growing comfortable in his presence. "I don't think you understand," Sakura says finally. "I trust you more than I trust myself."

It was the absolute truth. Whatever the reason was behind their shared feelings in the second part of the exams—the lust that Sakura had felt as if it were her own—Sasuke certainly didn't seem to prey on her (or anyone) in the ways he pictured. She doesn't know what Orochimaru did to him. Yet, here he is, thriving, giving himself the opportunity to share a bed with a teammate he'd harmed in so many ways before.

There wasn't a person alive who could accuse him of not trying.

TV remote abandoned, Sakura turns off the lamp and her body concaves into the mattress. Her room is obscured of any light, and the sounds of night bugs flitter in from miles and miles away. She curls into her blankets, staring into obsidian, waiting for Sasuke to do the same.

The bed dips. Sasuke faces the wall with his back towards her, giving her the most space. They're a few arms lengths away. The ceiling fan whirrs in above them and in the warmth of the room, Sakura's voice sounds.

"Did you hate me, Sasuke?"

He turns towards her, quizzically, wondering where the question could have come from.

Sasuke has hated a lot of people in his life, and made it clear to them by word and action. The worst he's ever paired with Sakura was discontent, or perhaps annoyance from time to time—even in the depths of his despair. Hate and Sakura simply did not mix. He can only blame himself for his inability to express emotion properly—it was all incredibly draining.

"No," He replies sternly, earnestly. "Why?"

She escapes from her nest, hoping she was facing him. It was now or never. "I don't know how to say this. I understand that…it may not be the time, but you're talking to me today and I don't know if things will be the same tomorrow."

Sasuke waits for her to continue, propping his head up on his hand.

"I saw what you felt about me, during the exams…when…" She shifts, sitting up fully in the bed because she can't stand the pressure on her chest. This had been a long time coming. She needed to know. "I'm so confused about everything. I understand that you may not have control of your emotions just yet—but that just leaves me to wonder. Is there a reason you avoid me? Do I make…you think bad things, Sasuke?"

Ah.

What could he say? He didn't reject the thoughts he felt about her every time, but he would never act upon them. What was bad in her opinion, anyways? She was naïve to the world, too sweet, too kind, too—

"I'm not stupid, you know. I get that I look like a child, or younger than I really am. I'm a woman. You shouldn't feel guilty about—"

"What?" Sasuke interrupts, shifting to sit up himself.

Of course she was a woman—he'd never seen her as anything but. She had blossomed in The Forest of Death as she guarded Naruto and himself, and fought against three enimies far stronger than she was. She was a warrior from that day on—undeserving of every bruise and cut, but taking them all so well.

Sakura had been a woman long before any of their other classmates. Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura had lost their childhood innocence rather early. Yes, she was inexperienced and gentle…but so was Hinata.

Sakura's so engulfed in her expressions, she barely registers his disruption. Every petty comment anyone has every thrown her way has finally decided to flow out, venting in the blackness of her bedroom. "I'm only twenty, I get that. But I've saved lives; I've battled with the best of them. I'm strong and independent and even though I don't always like my reflection, I know that I'm worth something."

He leans forward, listening fully.

"I'm smart. I learn quickly and I observe everything. I care for others genuinely. It's hard to keep up with the great Sasuke and Naruto but I'd say I hold my own! And…and maybe I talk too much and get overly aggressive, but is that really such a bad thing?"

"No." Sasuke says.

"I don't have an hourglass figure, so what? I have no idea what I'm doing, who cares? I think that I at least owe it to myself to try. I'm…I'm worth that. I want it."

Sasuke blinks. "What do you want?"

Her voice is confident, but her body shakes, for Sasuke's eyes can see everything. In this moment, it feels like he is a priest and she, a sinner, confessing her most buried secret. Sakura decides to take a leap, after her random speech fades into the background. The woman walks off of a mountain and falls into the void—her stomach drops, her hands turn clammy and she says: "I want you, Sasuke, more than anything in this world."

Finally, finally she's expressed aloud her innermost challenge. She doesn't hear or see a reaction, but she doesn't regret her boldness. When Sasuke left after these exams, at least she could say that she tried. Whatever he decided to do now was okay.

Sakura could handle it.

Sasuke, on the other hand, couldn't understand her inner turmoil or why she was so passionate in this moment. He was at least partly to blame for the disorder in her head. She was both confident and unconfident at the same time…just as Sasuke knew she was strong and yet wasn't willing to let her prove it without getting in the way. He cared for her, but left as soon as anything difficult came between them.

One thing, however, never strayed from his resolve. Sakura Haruno deserved everything. Everything he had to offer, and everything she could ever want.

He digs around his head for the right thing to say, for the right thing to do. But in the end, he remembers that she deserved the right to choose. She was a woman, after all, and she understood her wants better than anyone else.

Sasuke exhales through his nose. "Do it, then."

The night bugs grow louder in the stillness of her burrow, howling up at the moon that didn't dare seep past the double layer of curtains in front of her window. Sakura chews at the inside of her cheek until it starts to sting.

Did Sasuke think she was playing around? How could he be so blasé about…this? Sakura had allowed little boys to peck her cheek because she was the "bestest doctor" they'd ever had. It was innocent, adorable, and perfectly appropriate. Is this what Sasuke saw this as? A declaration of purity?

"I mean it." She bites out. "It's not a game."

Sasuke is steady when he reaches out for her, closing their distance. She is cold, trembling with both misdirected anger and timid embarrassment. Never again would Sasuke take control and steal what ought to be given—he wouldn't kiss her like he had when he left Konoha. If she wanted him, she would have to prove it. It was best to give her all of the control. Deep down, Sasuke doesn't trust his body not to betray his mind.

She deserved roses and candles and all other things a woman in love should have.

Everything is backwards it seems. First they sleep together in the same bed, then they have their first kiss, and then he'd take her…all in the span of a few hours? It was wrong. Even Sasuke's jaded sense of decency (that had been muted during his time Oto) knew it was true. Sakura needed to run the show, and Sasuke knew his place. Oddly, he feels as though he's showing her his belly—giving up his dominance was harder than he imagined.

He runs his thumb along her knuckles, to calm both of their heads. "I know."

Sakura moves to stand with a sudden bout of determination and slight frustration. Her hand falls from his grip and she walks over to the small lamp on her vanity, tugging at the braided chain. The hue is yellow and it doesn't show much of anything, except for the shadowy lines of her legs and her serious expression. "I'll do it, Sasuke. I'm not afraid anymore."

The flicker of her minty chakra told otherwise.

The man sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. Her polka-dotted sheet bunches under the weight of his body as he leans forwards, taunting her resolve. He doesn't smirk or smile or narrow his eyes. He simply says, "Prove it,"

Sakura is hyperaware of everything around her in this moment. The fine, thin hairs on the nape of her neck stood at end, sending shockwaves down the length of her spine. She gulps, because it suddenly feels like there's sand in her throat. Could she do this? Could she really, really do this?

She takes one step, and then two, following her shadow as it draws her into his space. His space. It's like something is swallowing her whole—they were two parts of the same piece, turning and twisting to find the right fit.

The man is level with her bellybutton, but his eyes are locked firmly onto her own. In this proximity, his heat spreads across her stomach. Sakura balls her fists, squeezes her eyes shut, and leans down.

She's really going to do it.

Sasuke had been kissed once before—if it could be called that. It was more like, Naruto's mouth smashed into his mouth and he'd immediately vomited right after. He had kissed Sakura, too. On that bench when he left the village. Neither lacked consent, on one or both parties.

After that, the man never bothered with such silly, meaningless collisions. It seemed redundant, strange, a complete waste of time that could be spent doing other things.

This? This wasn't meaningless in the least.

Sasuke's eyelids fluttered closed in anticipation. The man thinks of jumping into frigid, icy waters, sinking down so low that there's not even color anymore. The overflow of adrenalin and the bitter numbness of it all—he was prepared for such a feeling.

His lips tingle expectantly, but it's his nose that receives her petal-soft kiss.

His eyelids lift and he watches as she turns from him with a shy huff. "Okay. That's that." She clears her throat. "Let's go back to bed."

In this dim room, with the sounds of a humming fan and curious night bugs pirouetting around, and Sakura tapping her foot with impatience…Sasuke smiles.

He bites his lip to cover his grin, because this whole thing is awkward and stupid and…it's a chunk of life he'd missed out on. He hadn't had the chance to be a frivolous, a kid with a crush, a sneaky teenager. This feeling was something he couldn't understand—he'd felt less of a rush in the world-ending battle against Kaguya.

Sakura brushes her long bangs out of her face with a quick blow from her mouth. Her eyebrows knit together and her nose scrunches up dramatically with scorn. "Is this funny to you?"

"No," he says. It's not funny that she's bringing out these odd emotions.

Her face is splotchy from discomfort and humiliation, but her eyes sparkle with accomplishment. She's proud of herself, of her little peck, and Sasuke wants to see more from her…just a little bit more.

With sure hands, Sasuke grips the shirt that hung from her shoulders and draws her in closer once more. They've always had a way of communicating with just their eyes, but he needs to say what he's thinking out loud. "Stop playing around if this isn't a game."

Sakura is absolutely sputtering now. "W-What do you mean?"

She knows exactly what he means. In this moment, strangely, Sakura berates herself for not practicing with Yuma Hojo just an hour ago. It was only a kiss, right? Things flew around in her mind—how…exactly did you kiss someone on the mouth? Wouldn't your nose get in the way? How should you breathe, anyways?

Sasuke exhales and shifts so that her the back of his knees, and the front of hers touch the edge of the bed. They're so close now; she can feel his oven-like heat.

Timidly, Sakura places one hand on each of his shoulders, staring down at him with a brilliant fortitude. She leans, turning her head to the side as gravity forced them together and Sakura kisses him…

…for real, this time.

Her lips felt like snow, falling to the ground and melting into a soft wetness. She pressed into him, gliding her upper lip against his lower with unpracticed gentility.

It was nothing like Ino had said. Bottle rockets and firecrackers didn't all explode at once. Butterflies didn't furrow around the cavity of her stomach and flutter up through her throat.

Instead, a calm wave faded around her body. It was as if she were floating atop seafoam—drifting outwards into the vastness of a sea, pushed by a satiny breeze. A flame rose from within her core, filling her body with smoldering embers and tufts of gray smoke.

Sasuke does not kiss her back. Instead, he savors the pressure, the chasteness, the taste. When she pulls away he grips her waist, not bothering to open his eyes. "Don't stop,"

Sakura's never heard such a plea come from him. She catches his words before they can fully escape, caressing his mouth over her own. The woman gains her confidence as he pulls her body atop of him—Just one more, just one more…

She must have kissed him a hundred times that night. He'd drifted off into slumber from her dots—his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips. She drank everything he had to give.

Sakura smiles, because for the first time in her life she feels accomplishment that wasn't shot down just seconds after winning.

In the dimness of her room, where Sasuke Uchiha lay flat on his back in her too-large bed, Sakura was able to brush the fringe off of his forehead and stare at his face without almost dying, without crying, without feeling like he'd never belong to her. She let her lips linger over his forehead, his chin, and his temple.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept without dreaming of death. Sasuke didn't really know when he'd fallen into her comfort, either. Had it been minutes; hours; days?

Her body was warm as it draped atop him, like a billow of volcanic ash had buried him whole. He was secure, safe and sound, drifting along aimlessly.

Sasuke wanted this peace every night, for the rest of his life.

Sasuke…wanted forever, too.